Black Jack, Bringing us Together
by Supreme Meep
Summary: America invites England to go horseback riding in the Ozarks, but of course, things won't ever go smoothly, will they?  USUK, planned for three chapters  for three days .  T for safety reasons-I have no explanation for the title.


USUK, established relationship. Also, for the record, I don't know much about English-style riding (but I do know the saddle has no saddle horn and therefore no handle or anything in case the horse bolts, bucks, or rears), so of course I'm using the saddles and style of the Western style I grew up with. Plus it fits.

Also, 'tack' refers to the saddles and stuff, for any non-equestrian people. 'To tack' is basically to put on the saddle and bridle. The difference between a bridle and a halter is that a bridle has a bit (the part that goes in the horse's mouth) and reins, while a halter just goes around the horse's head and usually attaches to a lead rope (really sort of a normal rope).

I use their usual (country) names when referring to them, but either nicknames or their human names when they're talking to each other.

* * *

"I promise it'll be fun," said America as he led his boyfriend into the stables where they were supposed to be renting horses. England only sighed, simply going along with the younger nation's whimsical request from earlier. He had assumed at first that he would be putting up with a full day of intense sun, mosquitos, and America's annoying chatter; this was not the case, however, seeing as the other had informed him (once he'd already arrived, no less) that it would be for three days and nights instead.

"I hope you've got a plan," England said plainly, still letting America drag him through the rows of mostly empty stalls. "I'll have you know that I only packed for two days at most. Next time, inform me in advance that the trip will be longer."

America laughed, "If I'd told you it would be longer, then you wouldn't have come. You can just borrow some of my clothes." It was around that point that the younger nation stopped in front of the two occupied stalls in the barn. One housed a large, black gelding with a large white face marking, and the other held a smaller bay mare. "That one's Black Jack, and he's the one I usually use when I come here," America said, patting the gelding on the neck. "The bay's name is Levi, and… I haven't really ever used her-the owner says she's pretty well-trained, though, so you don't need to worry."

"I can handle a horse, thanks," England pointed out. He had, after all, ridden horses in several wars. Sure, it had been a hundred years or more since, but he was confident in his own skill. "Probably better than you."

The younger nation only blinked and took a couple of lead ropes off a nearby rack, clipping one to each of the halters that the horses had already been wearing. "The saddles are different from what you use, though," commented America, opening the stalls and leading both horses out. "So I'll tack 'em up."

England had no complaints about that; as he watched the other lift saddle pads and then the saddles onto the horses, he noted that these were much bulkier than what anyone in his own place would have used. Although the bridles seemed to be the same (save for the numerous star buttons and the like that decorated them) and that made the older nation consider stepping in, he immediately reconsidered when he saw the gelding-'Black Jack'-seriously attempt to bite America.

"Ah, yeah, he's an old grump," America explained once he noticed the older nation looking. "Sort of like y…" He stopped when England began glaring at him.

"No, go ahead, I'd like to hear it," the older nation insisted, narrowing his eyes.

"Iggy's old!" America announced happily, causing England to sigh. He really never did learn… this was going to be a long three days…

* * *

It wasn't long before the two were off, riding the horses that America had designated through the mountain trail. Their goal was the stables on the other side of the mountains, which, according to America, was part of the same group that ran the one they had just departed from. The first part of the trail (as much of it in the future would be) was almost completely forested, with barely enough room for the horses to walk side-by-side instead of nose-to-tail like normal trail riding. Of course, this wasn't a normal trail ride.

"So I figure once it gets to be around sunset, we can pitch the tent," America spoke up, referring to the packed tent that was hanging off his saddle amongst other supplies-like saddlebags, which sort of went with the whole camping thing.

"When else?" mumbled England, who wasn't quite into the spirit of things.

America grinned, silently promising that by the end of those three days, he'd get the older nation into the trip. "Don't be negative, Levi'll sense it and buck you off," he joked, although that earned him a shocked expression from his boyfriend.

"You went and put me on a horse that would _throw me off_?" England asked incredulously, prompting America to burst into a fit of laughter, saying, "Nah, Iggy, I was joking. There's something called 'limits', y'know." The bay horse snorted as though in agreement.

"I refuse to believe that the one who practically wrote the book on stupidity is lecturing me about limits."

"Believe whatever you want, Iggy. Just relax and let the horse walk up the mountain."

"I was attempting to, until you-"

"Yeah, whatever."

England sighed and once again resigned himself to looking at the trail ahead, knowing that America was likely determined to make things more difficult than they needed to be. It was one of the many annoying things he'd learnt to put up with.

* * *

The rest of the ride was relatively quiet, for which England was thankful. Once he was able to focus, the area really was nice to look around and just… be in. He wondered if that had been the whole purpose of them going on the trail ride; this was only an assumption, since America had remained unexpectedly silent for the first few hours.

Of course, the silence could only last so long… As America proved once the two reached an open field in the middle of all the forest. "Okay, Iggy! We're almost at the campsite, so let's race!" he shouted, clicking his tongue.

England barely had time to react in shock before the horse America was riding, Black Jack, bolted forward in response to the click. The older nation was about to attempt a similar order to Levi (not wanting to be left behind), but the horse was faster in responding the actions of the black gelding. Without waiting for the command, the bay mare broke into a run that forced England to cling to the saddle for dear life.

"What. The. Hell. America," he gasped once the horses stopped at the opposite end of the field. That little action of America's had nearly thrown him off the saddle (and it would have, if the saddle had lacked a proper handle like the type the older nation was used to), so he had to adjust himself back into the seat.

"Did you need a warning first?" the younger nation asked, looking at him and trying (not very successfully) to keep from bursting into a fit of laughter. "Sorry, guess I thought you could hold on better."

"I am capable of holding onto a saddle," England replied, still trying to readjust himself. "However, I was not prepared for that."

"Who said anything about a saddle?" for a moment, the younger nation's comment made absolutely no sense… then it pointed out a double meaning behind America's words from earlier.

England flushed, "You are an idiot."

America actually starting laughing at this point, "Maybe I am, but anyway…" he paused to dismount. "This is the campsite."

England looked around at the area; it appeared they had stopped in a part of the field that was at least partially surrounded by the trees of the woods ahead. "I suppose it is getting late," he commented. "We didn't exactly start off first thing in the morning."

"Three in the afternoon," he heard America say as he climbed down off of the horse. For a moment the older nation stopped to think and to appreciate the fact he was on his own two feet again, before he turned to America.

"Ah, so… the tent," he said.

America grinned, replacing the horses' bridles with halters and tying the lead ropes to tree branches. "Yeah, I'll do that. You can… uh, make a fire," he took a box of matches and lighter fluid out of one of the backpacks he'd brought on the trip, then pointed to what appeared to be a campfire pit. "This is an actual campsite, so it shouldn't be too hard."

* * *

It was dark before they'd managed to get everything set up-America pitched the tent, untacked the horses (giving them buckets full of some sort of grainy horse feed as well), and started getting out a bunch of packaged food while England started a campfire. The two now sat in separate camp chairs, placed next to each other as they at least attempted to roast sausages over the campfire.

"Iggy, Iggy, Iggy, Ig-"

"_What_, Alfred?" England finally hissed, right before the sausage on a stick he'd been holding caught on fire. Cursing, he withdrew it from the flames to put out the fire.

"I was gonna say that if you held it that close, it was gonna catch on fire," America replied with a stupid grin. "Man, you even suck at cooking when you're not even using an oven, huh?"

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with my cooking!" England said defensively. "You simply lack taste, that's all it-"

He was silenced as the younger nation leaned over and kissed him on the lips-briefly, but it was enough to make him forget his point. "I dunno, you taste pretty good," said America once he pulled out of the kiss.

"I don't think that's the point I was trying to make," England replied. "...But I'll let it pass."

After they'd eaten (with England attempting to successfully cook several more sausages, and failing pretty hard each time until he gave up), the two put out the campfire and slipped into the tent; it would have been large enough for several people, but since it was just the two of them, America had set up a large air mattress (as opposed to sleeping bags) with sheets and blankets, etcetera.

It only took a few minutes in the 'bed' for England (tired from the long day) to begin dozing off. Of course, that had to be the moment that America decided to put an arm around his waist and pull him closer in doing so. "Hey… Iggy… Can we-"

"No," England interrupted as he turned over to face the younger nation, who had been whispering in his ear.

"Why not?"

"Did you bring any lubricant?"

"I forgot, but-"

"Exactly, and I'd like to be able to sit on the horse tomorrow."

At that, America dropped the subject, and the two went to sleep.

* * *

Ahaha, sorry about the lack of… well.

Next chapter, maybe. Mayyybbbee.


End file.
